Going Postal
by sunburntdaisy
Summary: A series of post-episode CJ/Danny scenes, filling in some of the gaps, without departing from canon intentionally .
1. PostIn Excelsis Deo

**Post 'In Excelsis Deo'**

"You're thinking about Lowell Lydel?" Danny indicated the direction of the restaurant and fell instep beside her.

"Yeah." CJ said.

"You want me to talk you into it or change the subject?

She smiled.

"I wasn't thinking about that."

He waited.

"These things happen all the time. Maybe not to the same degree, but I was just thinking that so few get any kind of acknowledgement or media coverage and I'm disgusted, and relieved, at the same time."

"Disgusted because?"

"He has to very nearly die."

"And relieved cause you'd rather not know."

She didn't answer.

"That's natural CJ."

"It's selfish. I wish I didn't know because it won't get out of my head. Surely this is important enough to have space in my head."

"CJ…"

"I know." She marched on.

He jogged to catch up. "Listen to me. You're not selfish or you'd never even ask this. There's only so much room in your head and you know I think pretty highly of you. I'm not saying your limited in that department."

She smiled. "Don't flatter me Danny."

"Okay."

She shook her head. "What I think about doesn't only affect me. I have influence. If I don't think about something because I don't like the way it makes me feel then…"

"Then you can sleep at night and be on your game like you have to be the next day."

She sighed. "Don't you know a million things you wish you didn't?"

"Yeah, and I know what you're talking about. I do." He stopped walking, nodding at the warm-lit window of a Thai restaurant. "You're being too hard on yourself. I'm changing the subject now. Do you like seafood?" He pushed the door open and she went inside, invited by warmth and spices.

"Sure. Though I'm not an eye balls and tentacles girl."

He grinned, "You're a flamingo."

"I am."

They sat in a corner table at the back, near the kitchen.

"Do you ever just want to get a job that doesn't take over your whole life?" She watched a waiter balance five plates on one arm, shaking her head.

"I love my job." Danny followed her gaze, "And I don't have that particular talent."

"I'm sure it can be learned. No one's born balancing flatware."

"Are you recommending I switch careers?"

"Well," She raised her eyebrows at him.

"It would answer most of your ridiculous list."

"It would."

"You want to see the wine list?" He handed her the menu and she looked down the line.

"Let me ask you something."

"Fire." She didn't look up from the wine selection.

"If I say 'off the record', you trust me right?"

"Sure."

"So what's the problem?"

"I think I'll try the viogner."

He waited.

"What if you don't say off the record?" She put the list down on the table between them. "What if I let something slip just telling you about my day, or-"

"You think I'd take advantage of that?"

The waiter arrived and took their orders. When he left again CJ found her attention arrested by him staring at her, demanding an answer.

"It's your job to take advantage of that. You have to have access. You have to use your sources, find the news, print the story."

"Thanks for the job description."

"Danny…"

"CJ, there's a line. We both know where it is. We won't cross it on accident."

"What about on purpose?"

"It won't happen."

"Yes it will."

"It won't."

"I will have to lie to you. That's only going to get harder to do."

"So don't call on me when you know you've got to lie."

"I'll be counting how many times I call on you, wary not to play favourites. Or the opposite."

"You already do that." He shrugged.

"What?"

"No," he smiled, "I'm kidding. CJ, I'm just flirting with you."

She shook her head.

"We have writers. We need good writers. You could get a job at the Whitehouse."

"I don't think you can offer me that job but – I'm a reporter. It's what I do. It's what I'm good at and…" he sighed and ran his hand through his hair, "I'm touched you want to find a way for this to work but I think you'll just have to wing it."

"Are you referring to my secret service name?"

Their drinks arrived. CJ lifted her glass, "To… whatever the hell this is."

He smiled, drank, rested his glass on the table, "So, what are you doing for Christmas?"

"Going to my Dad's."

He nodded. "You two close?"

She shrugged, nodding without great conviction. "My step mother doesn't like me."

"Step mothers do have a tough rep."

"She's okay, she just doesn't like me."

"Okay."

"She was my high school English teacher."

"At least she can brag about your successes."

"I doubt it, but it's fine. I haven't seen Dad in too long. I'll only be there two days so we can hardly get sick of each other."

"I can go about forty five minutes before my sisters start to get on my nerves."

"I'll be you get on their nerves faster than that."

"I've had years to perfect the art."

"Explains some things."

He smiled cheekily.

"Are you spending Christmas with family?"

He nodded. "I have one sister in town. She has a whole brood, plus a brooding husband."

"You don't like him?"

"Let's just say he has nothing like your excuse to get down about the world."

"Sure he does – read a newspaper."

"I should do that sometime I guess."

Dinner arrived: a steaming bowl of rice between them and individual curries.

"So, the seafood is the thing to have here?" CJ scooped rice onto her plate and handed him the spoon.

He shrugged. "Not particularly. It's all good so far as I've got down the menu yet."

"Why'd you ask if I liked seafood?"

"I was changing the subject, with great tact and subtlety, turns out."

"Away from the subject of our business dinner?"

"Okay."

"You really oppose hate crime legislation?"

"Crime's a crime."

"Okay, but discrimination isn't always criminal. Fuelled by hate and surely worth opposing nonetheless."

"I'm not endorsing discrimination."

"So you agree there should be a penalty for the motivation behind a crime?"

"I might agree we need to look at laws against discrimination but you don't go far before butting heads with the constitution."

"The beginning of the end."

"I usually don't win these arguments that easily."

"Long day."

"Half day."

She smiled and took another bite of curry.

"Is it good?" he pointed his fork her way.

"Yeah, you want to try?"

"You don't mind?"

"Course not." She nudged her plate his way and he offered his plate in response.

"What is that?" She asked, mouth full of his dinner.

"Just satay."

"No 'just' about it. That's good satay."

"Not bad for a business dinner then?"

"Almost good enough for a date." She bit her tongue too late.

"Shame I brought my notebook."

"Shame you've been off the record this whole time."

"I'll get past it."

"Okay."

They ate for a while, commenting on flavours and recommending other restaurants, till their plates were empty and hungers sated.

"I have an early flight tomorrow." CJ lifted her jacket from the back of her seat and shrugged it on.

"Want me to walk you back to your car?"

She looked at him a moment before answering, relieved to see no hint of expectation in his eyes. For that second she could believe he didn't want anything more out of the evening than she did. "Sure."

When they stopped at her car she looked again. There was no denying he wanted more. "Danny…" she warned.

"Don't worry. I'll leave it be."

She stopped, not sure she was happy to hear it. "Okay."

"Don't get me wrong. I'm not giving up. But I'll take my foot off the gas. You want time? I can do that."

She smiled.

"I'm patient guy. I hope you're not laughing at me. I took you to a very nice restaurant, one I'm hoping doesn't get too popular, one I wouldn't share around with just anyone."

"I'll try to keep the secret."

"Good."

"Okay then."

"Thanks for dinner."

"Not a problem."

"Sorry I didn't give you a quote."

"I'm not."

She smiled, turned, and walked away.


	2. PostThe Portland Trip

**Post 'The Portland Trip'**

CJ turned the page and realised she couldn't remember anything she'd read on the previous page. She dropped the memo and looked at her desk. Chaos.

There was a knock at her door. "Hey CJ."

She looked up. "Danny."

"You busy?"

"Probably. Hard to say. My eyes are glazing over."

"Can I interest you in a cup of coffee?" He didn't say it in the same tone he used to flirt with.

"Ah, okay." She got up an d they walked toward the mess.

"Did you come to see me about anything in particular?" She asked.

"Yeah."

She waited several steps before pursuing the answer to her question. "Well?"

"I'm working on it."

"Okay."

Several steps later…

"Let me know when you're ready."

"I'm going away."

"Story taking you overseas? Anywhere exciting?"

"It's not a story."

"Oh." She led the way into the mess and began making a fresh pot of coffee. She flicked the switch and realised what he was trying to tell her, not very successfully. "You're going away for good."

He nodded once.

She hesitated, looking at him till it became unbearable. Instead she looked at the steam rising from the coffee pot. "Any particular reason?"

"Maybe."

"Danny…"

"Hard to say exactly."

"Is it a good opportunity?"

"Yes."

"Well, good."

He walked to the window and looked out.

"You've been in the room how long?"

"Only a few hours today." He turned to face her.

"No I meant, how long have been a Whitehouse reporter?"

"Oh, nine years, couple of months. Sounds like a long time." He smiled

"Remember how you said you'd take your foot off the gas?"

"Sure. Then you started kissing me."

"Not at that very moment."

"No."

"Is this," she sighed, "Is this stepping on the break?"

"Part of it."

"Is the… engine still running?"

"I don't think this metaphor is going to help us any more than it already has."

She smiled. "I don't know if I want an answer but for some reason I have to ask-"

"Don't do this. I should go." He headed toward the door.

She panicked, "What about your coffee?"

"You looked like you needed it."

"Don't leave like this."

He stopped. "Okay."

"A minute for me to pour, five or less for it to cool, you'll be free in ten if you're in a hurry."

"I'm not." He sat down and she poured their two cups of coffee.

"Where are you going?"

"A conference in Amsterdam first off. There are a couple of jobs. The Post are trying to convince me to stay with them as a foreign correspondent. I have a couple of weeks to make up my mind."

She nodded. "You'll be gone indefinitely."

He sipped his coffee and burnt his mouth.

"I can't save your seat for you."

"I'll try not to take it personally."

They drank in silence for a couple of minutes. "There'll always be a seat for you Danny."

"I know."

"What I'm trying to say is… never mind."

"What were you going to say?"

"We'll miss ya."

"You'll miss my exposing your deepest and darkest before you're ready?"

"Not so much."

"My chasing you down the hall with follow ups?"

"Maybe."

"Tips."

"Well, sure."

"Not so much the arguments."

She smiled. "There've been a few of those lately. You bait me."

"I do."

"But you won't miss that."

"Yeah I will."

"Yeah," he stared into his coffee and finished it off. "I think I should go." He pushed his chair back.

"Okay." She got up and followed him to the exit.

He paused at the threshold. "Keep doing what you're doing CJ. You're very good."

"You too." She seemed trapped there, looking him in the eye, wondering how long it'd be till he'd return.

"Right, well," he looked down.

"Have a good trip," she kissed his cheek, pressing her face to his, lingering indulgently.

He held her arms lightly, demanding nothing, "Bye, CJ."

She swallowed as he backed away, forced a smile, raised her hand to wave and dropped it again when he turned away.


	3. Post7A WF 83429’

**Post '7A WF 83429'**

She found him in the Press office, tapping away at a hundred words a minute. She sat in the vacant seat beside him and leaned back. "What are you working on?"

"Hi," he stopped typing and swivelled to face her, "I'm glad you asked, you see, I'm a reporter. I report the news – write stories, that kind of thing."

"Thanks for clearing that up."

"Anytime. Hey, I was hoping to get a chance to talk to you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, but you first."

"No, go ahead."

He shook his head. "How can I help?"

"I just wanted you to explain what you've been doing hanging around the Whitehouse for the past ten years – now I get it."

"CJ."

She leaned back and sighed. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

"What did you do now?"

"I bit your head off – you hadn't done anything. Your researcher…"

"Oh that."

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"I really yelled at you."

"Yeah, you did. But then you told me to post – and in very good time too."

She leaned forward and smacked her fingers to his lips.

He took hold of her hand and moved it away from his mouth. "Don't worry. I'll never mention it again."

"I didn't want to go back on my word." She pulled her hand free of his.

"Did the president notice?"

"He may have mentioned it."

"Good thing he's not the president anymore then."

"No kidding."

Danny smiled, "Speaking of the president, how are they doing?"

"Off the record?"

"Please."

"Not great."

"That's to be expected."

"Yeah. Okay, I should get back to work – wait, you said you wanted to talk to me about something."

"We covered it."

"We did?"

"Sort of," He shrugged, "I'm never mentioning it again – which makes it hard to thank you for it. You could have got in a lot of trouble."

She smiled, exhaled, "We do have a way of helping each other out that tends to be really unhelpful, in the end – most of the time."

"Maybe," he nodded, considering this conjecture, "Okay."

"Sorry – you were working." She got up, "I'll see you later."

"Yeah."


	4. PostJefferson Lives

**Post 'Jefferson Lives'**

CJ bent the blinds so she could see through them. The fireworks had just begun. She got up and pulled the cord, lifting the blinds so they wouldn't block out the view.

"Nice view."

She turned to find Danny standing in her doorway, waiting on the threshold.

"Hey," she smiled.

"You're not going down?"

"I'd miss the show en route."

He nodded, "You want me to leave you alone?"

"No. Come in. You don't usually wait for an invitation. What's up?"

He walked up beside her and looked out the window. She looked up also, afraid to look at him for too long.

He didn't answer her. She felt foreboding welling in her gut. "You're not sticking around are you?"

He sighed, looked at her, and nodded ever so slightly.

"Why not?" She swallowed, glad the room wasn't well lit, exposing the emotion that must have been obvious on her face.

"You were right – we're really not helping each other. You know how I feel about you CJ, but nothing's going to change and my being here is only going to make your life more difficult." He fiddled with his cuff. "And mine."

She looked out at the falling, bright-burning ashes. "De ja vu." She sighed.

"Yeah?"

She nodded. It felt like yesterday and a decade at once since he'd said good bye the last time. "Where are you headed this time? Back to Africa?"

"For a while."

She nodded, "You couldn't just take another job in DC?"

He smiled, "How much difference would it really make?"

"There's only one way to find out."

"You are such a tease."

"What?" she saw his raised eyebrows and the indignation fell from her features. "Oh, that." She remembered showing him how she could 'have him' in her office – only a few weeks ago. Perhaps if she'd not stopped there he'd not be leaving. Again. "You did ask."

"I know."

"Did I take it too far?"

"Or not far enough."

She slapped his shoulder then rested her hand there for a stolen moment. "How would kissing help this?"

"One way to find out." He crouched down beside her desk and tapped her fish bowl. "How is the old girl?"

"Swimmingly."

"Cute." He stood up. The fireworks were coming to their big finale and he stepped toward the window, but not close. He watched, her figure framing the show, arms crossed in self-protection across her chest.

When it was over she sat down.

"You going to keep working?"

"I was going to try."

"Not going well then?"

"I keep getting distracted. Can't imagine why."

"I'll go." He backed to the door.

She stood up and he paused his exit.

"Did you want something CJ?"

"Um," she stepped around her desk.

"Um?"

"Yes. Um."

He stepped towards her, eyes sparkling, waiting expectantly.

"Don't stay away forever."

"Don't worry, I like the constant rejection. I'm a sucker for it."

"That can't be healthy. You should probably give it up."

"I tried. Wasn't my style."

"Okay." She was almost ready to let him go.

"You really want me to?"

She hesitated. No. But she had to say 'yes'. She couldn't keep putting him through this. He was a good guy, deserved better – well, most of the time he did.

She nodded.

"Okay." His voice was weak. With a nod he left her standing there.

She watched him go, finally tearing her eyes away and ignoring every feeling, suddenly focussed entirely on her work and with no plan of going home soon.


	5. PostRunning Mates

**Post 'Running Mates'**

CJ leaned back against her apartment door, letting her weight close it firmly behind her. Her day-end sigh of relief was interrupted by the phone ringing. She dropped her bag on the floor and strode to the sideboard, lifting the phone from its cradle. "Hello."

"Hey CJ."

"Danny?"

"How you doing?"

"I'm – well, I'm pretty tired actually. You back?"

"Yeah, I've been back a couple of weeks now."

"No way."

"Yep."

"No big entry this time."

"You'd rather I show up in costume?"

"Of course."

"I'll try to remember that for next time."

"You do that."

"So I called to ask you to dinner."

Silence. The kind of silence that seems a lot longer than it is. "Okay."

"You understand this is not a work thing?"

"Okay."

"Okay."

"Did you have a place in mind?"

He gave the name and location of restaurant.

"I know the one; I'll meet you there."

"Is eight o'clock totally unrealistic. I've heard your job can be a little demanding."

She laughed, "Occasionally, but only ever unpredictably and dramatically."

"So I'll see you around ten?"

"Eight is fine."

"Okay."

"Right. Sleep well then."

"Bye."

She listened to the dial tone for a moment before hanging up. Unbidden, a smile came to her lips. Danny was home. In a few months she'd be free. She didn't let her mind wander down that path any further but she had seen the path, knew it was there, hoped to return and take her time exploring it properly.


	6. PostDuck and Cover

**Post 'Duck and Cover'**

She looked to her phone, relieved to see the message light dark. She slipped off her shoes and turned on the kettle. If someone had needed to contact her they'd have called her cell. Except Danny. He'd have called her at work – but not while the nuclear crisis was going on. He'd have called her at home, left a message, patient as ever, not wanting to interrupt her. But he hadn't called. Of course not. Expecting a call was ridiculous. She put a tea bag in a coffee cup and then rubbed her eyes.

Hold hands on the way down, he'd said.

She smiled, held her fingers to her lips, found she'd been holding her breath, and breathed again. She poured hot water into her cup and watched the water change colour.

Carrying her tea toward her bed, she passed the phone, dormant in its cradle. Out of the corner of her eye she imagined the light flashed. She looked at it directly. No, definitely her imagination.

She sat on her bed, sipped her tea, burned her top lip. She put the cup down and lay back for a moment before resolution swept her out of the room. She took the phone with her back to her bed, lay down, dialled, waited…

"Yeah?" Danny answered.

"Danny?"

"CJ?"

"Did I wake you?"

"No, well, yeah, but I fell asleep on the couch so you're saving me a crook neck."

"Oh, good."

"Everything okay?"

"Sure. I just wanted to say I'm sorry for the other night."

"Don't apologise."

"I'm not apologising, as in I had no control over the situation and really did have to leave –"

"Yeah, I figured. It's okay, really, I understand."

"I would have liked to finish the conversation." She waited for his reaction but it was silent.

Eventually he spoke, "Go for it."

"Okay."

After several moments silence, wondering if she was still there, "CJ?"

"Turns out I didn't really know what to say."

"You don't have to…"

"I think a response of some sort would be the nice thing to do."

"Take your time. I have dinner dishes to deal to."

She could hear crockery clunking and a tap running.

"I'm definitely more comfortable with incrementalism."

"You're uncomfortable."

"It's not necessarily a bad thing."

"Okay."

"I haven't really had a minute to think about it till now, but I didn't want to leave you hanging like that."

"That's reassuring."

"Well, good." She waited for the noise of running water to stop. "I'll be thinking about it."

"Okay."

"Alright then. Good night."

"Night CJ."


	7. PostElection Day Part 2

**Post 'Election day Part 2'**

"Good evening sir," the agent stepped past Danny, into his apartment. Danny kept his eyes on CJ the whole time.

"Thank you sir." The agent stepped out and CJ went in. Danny closed the door softly behind her.

She turned to face him.

"I'm sorry about…" his voice trailed off.

She swallowed, nodding, her lips forcing themselves into an upwards curve that could never honestly be called a smile.

"Are you okay?"

She half shrugged. Obviously not.

"Can I get you a drink?"

She moved as if some other force had pushed her forward. His lips were familiar, a comfort unexpected, but hoped for. His arms folded around her and his every thought of selfless charity flew out the window.

A minute later she pulled away, shock written on her features, "Sorry, I don't want to take advan-"

He pressed his fingers to her lips then kissed her softly, a gentle invitation.

She smiled and went back for more.

She woke two minutes before the alarm on her phone would go off. Somewhere in her psyche the dread of her alarm was greater than her need for another two minutes sleep. She made out his face in the dark and smiled at his sleeping form.

Rolling away gently, trying not to wake him, she reached for her phone on the bedside table and turned off the alarm.

She tip-toed out of the room, and picked up her clothes off the floor, on her way to the bathroom. She moved with stealth, closing the door carefully, then turning on the light. She snooped around a little, finding shampoo she could steal, but no hair dryer, a new tooth brush but no lotion.

She turned on the shower, cringing at the surely abnormally loud sound of water spraying against glass. Stepping into the hot torrent was bliss. She shut her eyes and let it run down her face, surrounding her body in a cocoon of comfort.

At a light knock on the door she rubbed her face and opened her eyes. "Come in," she smiled at his hesitation to walk in on her – what was that? Modesty? Maybe respect. Sweet.

He stopped stock still on the threshold, awe etched into his features as he appreciated the view.

"You're making me blush," she turned away, "Mind if I steal some shampoo?"

"Go for gold. Did you find everything you need? I'm a little sparse, haven't restocked very well for visitors."

"You wouldn't want to be too well stocked – might send the wrong message." She closed her eyes, put her head back and rubbed shampoo into her hair.

"What message would that be?"

She laughed, "Were you planning on joining me or just watching?"

"How'd I manage to get so lucky that those are my options?"

"I'd hate to limit you. I'm sure there are other options."

"Do you eat breakfast?"

"I wouldn't say no." She turned back to face him, running her fingers through the ends of her hair, rinsing out the suds.

"Don't get me wrong. I'd love to join you and watching – wow – but would making breakfast be more constructive?"

"Undoubtedly." She smiled watching his reaction to seeing her like this.

"Right then," he forcibly pulled himself away.

She got into her yesterday's clothes and, towelling her hair, walked barefoot out to the kitchen.

"Good morning," he passed her a coffee cup and turned back to the stove.

"Good morning."

"Sleep okay?"

She looked over his shoulder at scrambling eggs. "Yes. Definitely. You?"

"Like a baby – stupid saying really. They wake every hour on the hour, or so I'm told. So not like a baby actually."

"So you slept well." She leaned back against the bench and watched him till the toast popped. "Want me to butter that?"

"Sure."

He scooped the eggs onto the toast, handed her a plate and then carried his own through to the living room. A small round table in the corner suggested he didn't throw a lot of dinner parties but wasn't a tv-dinner regular either.

"I'm sorry I don't have much time." She took an eager mouthful.

"That's okay."

They ate.

She gulped her coffee. "I feel kind of bad to eat and run like this after…"

"Don't feel bad. I understand."

She stood up and took her dishes to the sink.

"I really have to go," she disappeared into the bedroom, gathering her belongings.

He sipped his coffee and watched.

"I don't know when I can see you again," she paused in front of him, checking she had everything, "But I'd really like to."

He smiled, put his cup down and stood up. "You have to go."

"I do."

He held her shoulders and gave her a very restrained kiss.

She looked into his eyes for a stunned moment before she snapped out of it. "I have to go."

He laughed, "So you said."

"I'm going."

"That's probably wise."

"Okay. Bye." She left him laughing, savouring the last bites of his breakfast, watching her leave, finally assured she wanted to return.


	8. PostRequiem

**Post 'Requiem'**

CJ opened the door. "What are you doing here? Donna's-"

"Walk with me."

"What?"

"Walk with me."

She sighed, turned, grabbed her coat, and called out, "Just stepping out for little while, Donna."

"Okay," came the reply from deeper inside her apartment.

CJ put on her coat and pulled the door closed as she stepped out.

"Good morning," Danny said, smiling, perhaps even laughing at her.

"Good morning," she gave in and smiled, captivated for a moment, "You can't just show up here."

"Sure I can."

"Danny…"

"CJ, we are adults. Donna won't care."

"It's not Donna I'm worried about."

"Had me fooled."

"I tried to explain this yesterday – I'm not ready to explain this – us – to anyone, not even, really, myself. I don't know what we are or where we're at and I don't want to over-analyse."

"So if she asks, tell her just that."

"Try to understand…"

"You said we'd put this off for seven years. Your words – but if you meant them then this is not nothing to you, this is not likely to just," he waived his hand like a leaf floating away.

"I need some time."

"Time to do what?"

"Time to be with you before having to explain myself to the world."

"So be with me. Come home with me, read the papers, raid the pantry, have a nap, or a bath, or read a book. Later we'll get Chinese food and watch the news, argue about politics and go to bed."

They stepped out of the apartment building and onto the street. The thought of a lazy Saturday like he'd just described, with him for company, sounded divine.

"What do you say?" He stopped walking and turned to her.

"That sounds really good." She looked nervous but ever so slightly dreamy.

"And unrealistic, I know. You probably have work."

"I do."

"Can you do it from home?"

"Most of it."

"Okay."

"Let me just pop back inside and get some things."

"You want me to come with you?"

"Let's not make this more complicated than it has to be." She could see the words hurt him but he had to understand – it wouldn't always be like this but for now it was necessary.

"Okay. I'll wait inside."

There was a chill in the air but the sun was streaming into his apartment, advertising fresh air and open spaces. He opened French doors onto a tiny porch, unfolded two cushioned deck chairs and threw a blanket over the back of each one.

"I'm going to put on some coffee. Make yourself at home."

She plugged in her laptop and slipped off her shoes, then browsed the bookshelf, fingering the occasional title of interest.

Danny returned and dropped a stack of newspapers on the deck between their chairs. "Have you eaten?"

"Yeah, thanks." She turned to watch him disappear back into the kitchen. She followed. "You're getting into a nasty habit of looking after me."

"I'll try to knock that on the head." He stepped towards her and waited.

"You don't really mean that, do you?"

"Why, you want me to?"

She nodded once, and then shook her head once. "I don't know."

"If I kiss you it's not cause I'm trying to swing that one way or the other."

"It's just my irresistible charm."

"Yep."

He pulled her close and kissed her, memories of two nights previous flooding their minds and leading them quickly to bed.

He leaned over her when they were finished, his hand skirting over her body.

"I think the coffee will probably be ready now."

She smiled and lifted her head to kiss him, pulling him flush against her.

"It'll keep."

She tucked her feet up underneath her and pulled the blanket around her shoulders.

Danny passed her a steaming coffee cup. Lilting jazz tones drifted from inside. He angled his chair and sat beside her, perching his feet on the edge of her chair. She reached out and ran her hand up his leg.

"Thanks for talking me into this." She took a careful sip of coffee.

"Anytime." His gaze lingered on her for a minute. "You want a paper?"

"Sure."

"Any one in particular?"

"Surprise me."

He passed her the post and he put the next one down on his own lap. He nudged his foot under her leg, tantalising her nerve endings, and then he commented on a headline as if nothing unusual was going on.

She imagined for a moment – what if this wasn't unusual? What if this was every Saturday? She knew better than to think this first flush of need and awe would remain indefinitely, but that in itself charmed her. She could be with him, like this. This could be ordinary, and at some level always extraordinary. She smiled. "What did you say?"

He laughed, "Were you distracted by something?"

She put her hand on his ankle. "I might have been."


	9. PostInstitutional Memory

**Post 'Institutional Memory'**

"There's a typo in the constitution."

"Well somebody should look into that."

"Toby's going to deal with it."

"Okay, what else?"

"How do you feel about Santa Monica?"

"Is that where you need to be?"

She nodded.

"Then I guess… growing anticipation."

"You really want to do this?"

"CJ…"

"You shouldn't be number two Danny. I just don't know how this is going to work."

He closed the gap between them, reaching out to rest his hands beneath her elbows. "You're not going to be the chief of staff anymore. You're not going to need to have everything sorted out. And after a few more weeks or months or years of being a little bit crazy and neurotic you're going to get used to that."

He held her arms and smiled at her slight scowl.

"So, two weeks and we're off to L.A.?"

"Two weeks of non-stop, breathless madness."

"But then…"

"California here I come."

"The blood will return to your extremities."

She sighed and finally smiled. "What about you?"

"I'm a fan of heat."

"You're definitely with me on this then?"

"I'm with you. Although, I'm just wondering if I'd be better to go early, leave you to it for these final two weeks of insanity."

"Get a head start on a tan."

"Find us a place to live."

"Find _us_ a place to live?"

"Well, I… if you like."

"Is that what you want?"

He cocked his head to once side and smiled as if it were a stupid question. "Is that what you want?"

She took a moment to think and the picture that came to mind was the summer version of that blissful Saturday after Leo's funeral – a sunny porch, newspapers, coffee and footsies. She smiled at him and nodded.

"Okay."

"I feel I should warn you that living with me will probably put an end to this infatuation you've had going a while now."

"I know what I'm getting into. I know you're going to go through some wicked withdrawal and some days you'll be unbearable."

"I should hit you."

"You probably will, eventually, cause I'll be unbearable some days too."

"And assuming all this you still think we should live together?"

"I know it."

"You're so certain about everything."

"I know it bugs you."

"That's a good enough reason for most things?"

He shook his head.

"Well? What makes you so sure?"

He smiled as if he knew something she didn't.

"What?"

"I love you, and I have for too long to think this is just going to go away."

She smiled, a little sadly, and put her hand to her mouth. "I know."

He took her hand away and kissed her.

She held him close, breaking from his kiss just to feel the security of a tighter embrace. Her world was shifting, the tide changing rapidly, the undertow strong. She hoped this might be strong enough to survive it.

CJ knocked on his door. It was late, she felt bad, and no better for having to let her agent go in first to scour the place for hidden assassins. Danny didn't react. He was used to it, stepped out into the hall to say hello while the agent did his thing. He looked as if he'd just woken up. His hair was flatter on one side and he rubbed at his eyes.

"Hey," he reached out to touch her and she let him shepherd her in, eyes locked together. His told her not to apologise for being late. Hers apologised.

The agent thanked Danny and they went inside.

"Sorry it's so late." CJ took off her coat and put it away.

"Don't be." He started clearing his work off the couch so she could sit beside him.

She looked at the space, then at Danny. She sighed. "Let's just go to bed."

He smiled, cheeky and daring.

"That's not what I meant."

"You're tired. I know. Couldn't resist."

"I didn't mean _not_, I just meant…"

He stood up, clearly laughing at her but very restrainedly. "CJ."

"Don't mess with me. I'm tired."

"You know where the bed is."

She nodded once and turned away from him, headed to the bathroom.

He was lying on top of the covers, reading a book, when she came out of the bathroom. She sat down on the bed and took off her shoes, lying back so her head rested on his stomach.

"Hey beautiful," he put his book down.

"Hey,"

"You okay?"

"Mm-hm."

"You want me to put you to bed, look after you some?"

"Maybe."

He held her head and moved out from beneath her, lowering her head onto the bed and kissing her forehead. He crawled across the bed and reached beneath her to undo her skirt zipper. It wasn't working.

After a minute she giggled. "I'm going to have to get up aren't I?"

"I got it." He held her hips fast and rolled her towards him, kissing her neck while he unzipped her.

"You'd try to seduce me if I walked in her asleep wouldn't you?"

"I'd hate to ruin my reputation." He pulled down her tights. "I have, after all, been trying to seduce you for pretty near a decade now."

"Once not enough?"

"Once will never be enough." He unbuttoned her blouse.

She shut her eyes.

He tenderly lifted her lethargic, floppy body to remove her shirt, and then lay her down, leaning over her, marvelling at his good fortune.

"You have a good day?" She asked sleepily.

"Yeah." He pulled back the covers and draped them over her. "Go to sleep." He kissed her lips and climbed off the bed to turn out the light.

Some time in the night she woke, uncertain why she was awake, but she was. She vaguely remembered being put to bed. She smiled remembering the tenderness, the safety of his touch.

She rolled toward him and looked at his sleeping profile. He snored lightly, mumbled something indecipherable, and then was silent. She smiled, reached out her hand to his lips, stopping at the last moment so as not to actually touch and wake him.

"I love you," she whispered into the darkness, trying out the words, realising just how much she meant them. She covered her mouth, took a deep breath and rolled onto her back to stare at the ceiling until she went back to sleep.

CJ put her feet up on her desk, then put them down again, feeling that perhaps it wasn't her desk. Not really. It was Leo's desk really, and soon it would be someone else's desk.

She sighed and sat up straight, stretching out her back.

"Kung pao chicken or mu shu pork?" Danny held up two bags, walking into her office as if it really were hers. He'd never just wander in on Leo.

She sighed, smiled and stood. "My hero."

He shrugged. "How's it going?"

"I keep getting stuck." She leaned over her desk to kiss him.

"Time for a break."

"No such luxury. You mind eating here?"

"That's what I meant." He plonked himself down on the chair opposite her desk and unloaded the food.

She took what he handed her and started eating.

"So guess what I did today?"

"Hours slaving over a hot wok, eyes watering from chopping onions?"

He laughed and lifted a spring roll in salute. "I booked us tickets."

"For both of us?"

"I'm flying out on Thursday. Yours can be changed if you need it to be, but I got you a mid-morning flight, day after the inauguration."

She opened her eyes in surprise, so soon. "Wow."

"Too soon?"

"I don't know. What are you going to be doing all week?"

"I'm seeing half a dozen apartments on Thursday and another four the next morning. If there's nothing interesting at that point then I figure I need to revisit my short listing strategies."

"This is insane." She took another mouthful of food, shaking her head.

"And yet so logical."

"I mean we certainly don't take the easy ways."

"Just because a thing isn't easy doesn't mean it isn't worth doing. Loving you has rarely been _easy_."

"Loving you hasn't been a walk in the park either." She reached across the desk for the sweet and sour sauce.

"Is that right?" His smile was restrained but he was glowing.

She looked up, realising what she'd let slip. Slowly she smiled, admitting she meant it, and seeing his anxiety, she nodded.

"Right." He grinned.

They ate in silence for a minute before his spirits rose to playfulness again.

"So, has this been a long suffering kind of thing or a more recent development."

She shook her head, a laugh on her lips, at his shameless digging.

"Humour me." He cocked his head to one side.

She'd sometime given up her defences against his vulnerable side. "I was happier, or perhaps just more anxious, not sure of the word… I was more _something_ to see you at dinner that night than if I'd just been seeing any other, you know, friend."

"Our Christmas eve eve business dinner, seven years ago?"

"No, last month." she laughed, the idea ridiculous till she saw his eyebrows lift in unspoken question. Was it possible it had been that long for him? She daren't ask. "But the second time you left was hard – harder than the first time. I was relieved – not because I didn't feel anything. I did – and you were right all along. It was easier to get on and do what I had to do without the distraction and complication of… falling in love. So maybe it started back then. It's hard to say." She played with her food, drawing patterns with her fork in the dregs of rice and vegetables.

"Thanks."

"What for?"

"Humouring me." He put down his food and walked around the desk, leaning over to kiss her.

"I know I haven't really said so," she said.

He held the back of her neck, gentle but secure.

"I do love you."


End file.
